


Dial 119

by Nimbus_Cloud



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Drama, Firefighters, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 00:25:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7867846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nimbus_Cloud/pseuds/Nimbus_Cloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on faiyuuhi's HQ fireman!AU</p><p>The very kind and talented faiyuuhi commissioned me to write a Kuroo/Kenma get-together fic for her fireman!AU and how on earth could I possibly say no?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dial 119

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Faiyuuhi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faiyuuhi/gifts).



 

“I’m gonna break something.”

“An hour into the day, chief?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow as he sipped his morning coffee.  “That’s a good sign.”

“No, I mean it.  What can we sort of do without for a little while?” Kuroo spun around in his chair, leaning back and staring at the ceiling blankly.

“Don’t go purposefully breaking equipment for stress relief; we need everything in case of an emergency.” Daichi scolded lightly.  “What’s got you all agitated anyway?”

“This is about that technician, right?  Kozume?” Bokuto chimed in, laughing when Kuroo chucked the nearest tennis ball at him.  “Nailed it!”

His Dalmatian whined at the ball, tail wagging, and Bokuto tossed it a light ways away.  He rubbed the dog’s flanks when he bounded back, ratty, green prize caught in his teeth. 

“Don’t play fetch in here, take it outside!” Iwaizumi barked.

“And miss the sight of Kuroo pining like a teenage schoolgirl in love?”

“I’m not pining.” Kuroo grumbled.  “And I’m not a teenage schoolgirl.”

“What about in love?” Daichi raised an eyebrow.

“Like you with that schoolteacher?” Kuroo snarked back, pleased to see a fierce blush settle on his captain’s face.  “I’m not in love, I’ve only met him once.  Which is why I have to meet him again.  And hopefully again after that.  Then we can talk about the possibility of love.  Which brings me back to my earlier question, what non-essential equipment can I break?”

“I’m not letting you break something just so you can call that technician in.  If you’re going to be theatrical about it, just pretend something’s broken and call him in under false pretenses.” Daichi sipped at his coffee.

“Like the boy who cried wolf!” Bokuto cried, trying to pry the slobbered-on tennis ball from his dog’s mouth.

“Except our ‘boy’ is a fully-grown man, and he’s crying ‘malfunctioning-emergency-equipment-needed-to-save-lives.’” Iwaizumi smirked. 

“I’d rather the Chief fake a call than actually break something.” Daichi emphasized again.  “Like you said, we sort of need it to save lives.  And none of this equipment is what I would call cheap.” 

“What if they send the wrong technician?” Kuroo gasped, abruptly sitting up in his chair.  “I could go to all that trouble, and they might not even send out the right guy, and then I’ll have to break something else—“

“I said you’re _not_ breaking anything—“ Daichi cut in, not that Kuroo was listening. 

“—can you even request a specific technician by name?  Or what if he’s not even working today?” Kuroo was fretting now.

“We’ve lost him.” Iwaizumi observed. 

“What if _he’s_ the one who takes the call?  I might lose my nerve on the phone.” 

“You think you’d recognize his voice?  I don’t remember the guy talking much the last time he was here…” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at Daichi, who just shrugged and turned back to his morning paper. 

“He had a really soft voice.  Soothing, you know?  Like rain…” Kuroo sighed. 

The others groaned.  Kuroo waxing poetic meant that it was time to start tuning him out and get back to work. 

“You know, he’s good friends with Akaashi, come to think of it.  Why don’t you ask Akaashi to introduce you again?”  Bokuto grinned, and two different projectiles came flying at him this time. 

“Why didn’t you say something sooner, idiot?!” Iwaizumi growled.

“I mean—at least he hadn’t actually broken anything yet, I guess…” Daichi muttered. 

Kuroo was silent, eyes wide at Bokuto.  Unmoving.  The others stared between them, and just as Bokuto began to shrink back out of nervousness, a red flush began to creep across Kuroo’s cheeks, soon coloring his entire face a lovely shade of fire-engine red.

“I think you broke him.”

* * *

 

It was a sort of unspoken rule: If work was what brought two people together to spark a friendship, then it was best to avoid talking shop in maintaining that friendship.  Akaashi, for his part, was only too glad to observe this bit of social decorum given his occupation.  A good day meant that everyone followed the law and nothing went wrong—which meant he had the dullest of days out on patrol.  He knew he wasn’t supposed to think it, but that was the truth.  Unfortunately, an eventful day meant that laws were broken and things went wrong, and usually, someone got hurt.  He didn’t like talking about those days, and the good days weren’t worth talking about.  It was the same for Kenma, though the stakes were considerably lower.

The dilemma Akaashi faced as he waited for his friend to arrive for their weekly luncheon was this: If he talked about Bokuto’s work—namely a co-worker—would he be ostensibly discussing Kenma’s work, and thus would be breaking their unspoken rule?  Even so, would it be such an egregious over-stepping of their unofficial boundaries? 

Before he could quite make up his mind on the matter, Kenma walked up to where he was waiting outside the café deli, and the two smiled at each other warmly before heading in to make their usual orders.  Soon enough, they were talking about their usual topics: books, movies, games… It was somewhat difficult to steer the conversation down the proper path, but eventually Akaashi found an appropriate segue—and they were only halfway finished with their meal too!

“And Bokuto’s been dying to see _Finding Dory_.  As soon as they take me off evening patrols, we’ll go.  I know it’s technically a children’s movie, but would you like to come see it with us?” Akaashi casually neglected to mention the part where they might be later joined by Bokuto’s friend, the handsome fire chief with unruly hair and a sudden fondness for Kenma.

“I’ve already seen it,” Kenma mumbled around a bite of his sandwich.  “It was pretty cute.”

“Oh…” Akaashi opted for a different route.  “We could go see something else then?”

“But Bokuto wanted to see Dory, right?  You should take him to see Dory.” 

“I meant… Bokuto and I could see Dory, then you could join us on a different trip to see a different title.”  He was fumbling now.

“Mm… I’m not too interested in most of what’s playing currently.  The ones I wanted to see I already checked out.”

“By yourself?”

“I usually see movies by myself.  Matinee; fewer people.”

“Ah…”

Akaashi swirled his tea, thinking desperately of how he could switch tactics.  How would Bokuto approach the situation?  No, that wouldn’t help.  He’d be loud and uncouth and would no doubt unwittingly give away Chief Kuroo’s affections with some tactless comment.  Akaashi had agreed to this precisely to prevent Bokuto from frightening his friend away.  No, he would not resort to Bokuto-esque methods for this. 

“I hope you won’t mind my asking… When was the last time you went to see a movie with someone?”

“”I saw one with my mom a couple of months ago.”

“I meant… on a date.”

Kenma stopped, his sandwich halfway to his open mouth, and he blinked several times at Akaashi before remembering to pick his jaw up off the table. 

“I guess we’ve never really discussed my dating habits.”

“Do you have any?” Akaashi chuckled.  “You seem so uninterested in people, I wondered if you’d ever…”

“People aren’t _un_ interesting.  I pay a lot of attention to people actually, but… personal relationships always seem so complicated, and I’m not exactly interesting to most people either.  It’s all supposed to be so mutual, but I don’t think I’d bother unless someone else took initiative first, and who would take initiative with me when I haven’t shown any interest?” Kenma sipped his juice.  That being said, he wasn’t completely inexperienced when it came to relationships.

“What if I told you that someone is very much interested?” Akaashi pressed. 

“Then you’re either talking about yourself or someone I barely know.  And I didn’t think Bokuto would have been willing to share.”

Akaashi choked on his tea as Kenma giggled, and he sighed, ruffling his hair.  He was starting to favor the direct approach. 

“Who is it, Akaashi?” Kenma asked, leaning his head curiously to one side. 

“It’s Bokuto’s boss.  Chief Kuroo.”

“The one with the host club hairstyle?”

“So you’ve noticed him?” Akaashi dared to hope that this could, in fact, be a fruitful endeavor. 

“He kind of stands out.  Plus he was the Chief so I had to have him sign off on some papers.” Kenma shrugged.  I’d have thought he’d be into women.  He seems the playboy type.”

“He _looks_ a certain way, it’s true,” Akaashi admitted with a wistful grin.  He’d made many of the same assumptions after Bokuto had first introduced him.  “But he’s as honest as it gets—and a long-time friend of Bokuto, who trusts him with his life.  Both personally and professionally.”

“Are you recommending him to me?”

“I just agreed to relay the message.” Akaashi raised his hands, as if to excuse himself from the matter even as he’d just divulged all the relevant bits of information.  “The rest is up to you now.”

Kenma blinked rapidly, eyes darting around the room, occasionally pouting his lips or furrowing his brows—he seemed to be quite conflicted in his considerations.  Eventually, he settled on a thoroughly upset expression before mumbling,

“I can go in for a random inspection next week maybe.  Think he’ll be there Wednesday?”

“I can make discrete inquiries.” Akaashi smiled.

“I just want to see what he’s like.  That’s all.” Kenma declared, half trying to convince himself. 

Though, in retrospect, the Chief had seemed a touch flustered during his last check-in.  Kenma had thought him unwell perhaps, maybe even nervous because he wasn’t keeping the station in peak condition, but now that he thought about it, people didn’t blush like that for fevers and colds.  Maybe he wasn’t quite as observant of people as he had thought himself to be.  Or maybe he had a blind spot for romance after all.  Really, that was why he had to go and make sure.

* * *

 

“Ah.  You’re that tech support guy.”

“Tech _inspector_ ,” Kenma corrected with a frown.  “Tech support is for computers.”

“Right, right.  Did we make a call for you—“ Daichi flinched suddenly, eyes growing dark.  “Did… did the Chief submit… a request?”

There was a strange animosity to that question Kenma couldn’t quite place, and he got the feeling it wasn’t directed at him necessarily.  But it still somehow felt as though if he didn’t answer properly, someone might suffer a slow and painful death.

“No request.  Just a routine inspection—and I forgot to get a form signed the last time I was here.” Kenma waved his clipboard in the air.  He hadn’t forgotten to get anything signed, actually, but it wasn’t difficult to throw a piece of paper away while filing, and then use that as the excuse for his visit.  “Where can I find your Chief?”

“Oh, good.”  The murder left his eyes.  “I think he’s out back with the dogs.”

“…dogs?” Kenma hadn’t planned on dogs.  They were smelly and loud and much too hyperactive.

“They don’t bite,” Daichi grinned, pointing Kenma in the right direction.  “Bokuto’s is a bit of a nibbler, but he only nibbles on Bokuto, so you should be fine.”

“Should be?”

“I won’t make any absolute guarantees.”

Kenma thought of asking the guy to accompany him, but the whole point was to meet and speak to the Chief _alone_.  Grumbling about the demerits of dog slobber, he followed the long hallway towards the back of the building and the little outside area with a chain link fence.  Peering through the glass door, Kenma saw several dogs eating voraciously out of several bowls, but no fire chief.  Hm…. He pressed his face a bit closer to the glass to see if maybe the chief was around the corner, a little ways out of sight, but that only got him the attention of the Dalmation, who jumped against the door and began barking excitedly.  Kenma clapped a hand over his ear, stepping back and away. 

“Tch!” he clicked his tongue and frowned at the oblivious canine.  “So noisy… I bet you’re Bokuto’s.”

“Bingo!” came a sudden voice behind him, and Kenma wheeled around to see the Chief, who looked a touch surprised to see him though he still wore a smug half-grin on his face.  “Oh, it’s—you’re…”

“Kozume.  Kenma.” He held up his clipboard.  “I forgot to get a signature from you the last time I was here.”

“You came all this way just for my autograph?” Kuroo teased.

“And a routine maintenance check.  Since I’m here.” Kenma shrugged, eyes finally landing on the bowl in Kuroo’s hand.  “That’s… not dog food.”

“Ah.  No, this is for the queen.”

“Queen?”

“Follow me.  She’s in my office; I’ll sign that form upstairs.”

Wordlessly, Kenma followed Kuroo upstairs to the Chief’s office, wondering what lay waiting upstairs.  He knew only that it wasn’t like the dog food he had seen outside, so logically speaking, he should expect to see a cat.  But was it normal to keep a cat in a fire station?  He was fairly certain he’d never heard of anything like a rescue cat. 

When they reached the office, Kuroo opened the door slowly and quietly, calling softly in the dim room.

“Vi?  Time for food…”

Kenma heard a soft bell tinkle before a soft black blur darted toward Kuroo’s feet, purring and rubbing against his boots.  He watched as Kuroo knelt down slowly, setting the food bowl down off to the side as he scratched the cat gently behind her ears.  The purring grew louder, and Kuroo’s soft smile grew wider, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a deep-seated affection.

_Oh._

This is what he was really like, despite the lazy eyes and the smug half-grins. 

“This is Vi, our station queen.  She calls the shots, not me.”

As Kuroo stood to move toward the desk, the cat wandered over to her food, munching happily away on her wet tuna mash. 

“I didn’t think you’d be a cat person,” Kenma admitted. 

“I love cats and dogs both,” Kuroo shrugged, his hair falling into his eyes.  “But yeah, there’s a slight preference for cats.  And you?  Are you a cat person?”

“I’ve never had any pets.”

“That seems like you.” Kuroo smiled, and Kenma was a little off-put by how knowing that expression seemed.

Maybe Bokuto had the wrong idea, Kenma thought to himself.  It was a little difficult to read the man in front of him, at least romantically.  If there was really interest there, shouldn’t he have noticed by now?  They weren’t exactly flirting back and forth or getting flustered and nervous around each other’s every movement.  Instead it was all polite smiles and comfortable conversation.  He was probably this charming with everyone he knew. 

“You needed me to sign something?”

“Ah, yeah…” Kenma passed him the clipboard as Kuroo grabbed a pen from his desk drawer.

“This looks familiar… didn’t I already sign this?” Kuroo scrawled a signature anyway.

 _More observant than I gave him credit for,_ Kenma thought.  Looks could be so deceiving.

“If you did, we lost it.” Kenma shrugged, taking his clipboard back.

Their fingers brushed momentarily as the exchange was made.  Kuroo’s hands were calloused and large with long fingers.  The brief touch had been surprisingly gentle, though Kenma was trying not to dwell on it.

“Well that’s no good,” Kuroo laughed.  “Losing documents like that… that doesn’t exactly inspire confidence, you know?”

“Neither does your hair.”

Suddenly, Kuroo’s hands flew to his head in a self-conscious gesture, his expression taking on an incredibly childish pout. 

“I try, okay!  But some bedheads are really hard to tame!”

“…there’s no way that’s bedhead.” Kenma narrowed his eyes.  “You style it that way, you have to.”

“I’m serious!  I wake up like this, and I have really thick, coarse hair, so it doesn’t listen to me.  Or a hair brush.  At all.  Even when I wash my hair—“

“How in the world do you sleep that you get bedhead like _that_?”

“On my stomach with two pillows on either side of my head.  Like this.”

He gestured with his hands, his expression so genuinely distressed that it only took a second before Kenma started to laugh aloud, his shoulders shaking.  He tried to cover his mouth with his clipboard but the giggles kept coming, and soon Kuroo gave up pouting, settling on an exasperated smile instead.

“Yeah, yeah…” Kuroo nodded with slumped, defeated shoulders.  “Laugh it up.” 

“I’m not laughing at your hair.  Well, only a little.  I… What I mean is… I think I misjudged you.” Kenma offered an apologetic smile.

Kuroo’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped before he could stop it, and Kenma could at last see it—Akaashi and Bokuto had been right after all.  Blushes were always so telling of a person’s interest. 

“I’ll go ahead with the maintenance checks now,” Kenma said, bringing the stunned fire chief back to reality.  “You can oversee it if you want, and also let me know if you have any other problems with various equipment.  Even minor problems are good to know.”

“Uh… yeah.  Sure.” Kuroo stammered, bringing his hands slowly out of his hair. 

They went at a slow pace after that, chatting lightly as Kuroo led Kenma around the station so that he could do his due diligence.  Kenma knew there was nothing to check up on in all honesty, but since he was being paid for his trip to this station, he figured he’d actually do his job.  Never let it be said that he failed to diagnose potentially malfunctioning equipment because he was too busy ogling the station fire chief.  Well, _ogling_ might be a strong word.  Kenma didn’t think he had the best judgment or standards on what was considered attractive, but he was feeling inclined to stare, and he did at least think that Kuroo looked quite dashing when he smiled.  And now that they were at a passing level of familiarity, there was a lot less smirking and a lot more smiling.  Kenma had to admit it—he was starting to get _interested_.

“Okay, everything looks in order, more or less.” Kenma said as he wrapped up with the last of the equipment checks.  “Sorry to keep you from… whatever you were doing before I got here.”

“Ah… well, that was—it was no problem.” Kuroo stuffed his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight nervously between his feet.

Kenma waited, counting the seconds in his head.  Four, five, six… ten.

“Do you have any last questions for me?” he pressed.

“Uh…” Kuroo gaped.  “Um… Hmm… I don’t... Nope, don’t think so.”  His eyes fell to the floor, almost dejected. 

Kenma rolled his eyes since Kuroo wasn’t looking anyway and pulled the pen from behind his hear to scribble on one of the documents of his clipboard, thinking to buy a few extra seconds.  When that resulted in more nervous fidgeting and nothing resembling an invitation, Kenma passed the paper over with a small sigh.

“Your copy of the examination checklist.”

“Ah!  Thanks.” Kuroo mumbled softly as he took the sheet.  “Ah—Kozume!”

“Just Kenma is fine.”

“Oh.  Okay, Kenma then.  I, uh… just wanted to thank you for stopping by.”

“Just doing my job,” Kenma lied, watching the disappointment color Kuroo’s eyes.  Slowly but surely, he was becoming quite the open book.

“Right.  Yeah.  Uh… take care!”

Kuroo pulled one of his hands free to give a few nervous wiggles of his fingers, and the gesture made Kenma snort into his hand.  But the technician returned the gesture with a sympathetic look before leaving the station, leaving Kuroo to throw himself onto the floor, wailing in agony. 

“Argghhh!!!  That was my _chance_!  It was the _perfect_ chance, and now I’ll never get an opportunity like that ever again!”

“That _was_ a bit pathetic…” Iwaizumi suddenly chimed in, popping out from behind the wall.

“And after he left you _all_ those openings…” Daichi sighed, joining in.

“He was basically setting you up to ask him out.” Bokuto delivered the finishing blow, crossing his arms and shaking his head disapprovingly.  “I didn’t think you’d be _this_ bad at dating, Kuroo.”

“Your Chief commands you to leave me to die alone…” Kuroo mumbled, crumpling up the checklist he had received and chucking it at the three of them.  “I’ll die old and alone and probably in a fire.  Pile on the irony.”

Daichi picked up an carefully un-crumpled the paper—important documents needed to be kept and filed after all, no matter how much evidence they served as the fire chief’s total lack of ability to ask a person out on a date.

“Well, think of it this way… Of all the ways to go—wait, hang on.” Daichi looked again at the wrinkled paper in his hand and the small, scribbled-in numbers on the bottom corner of the form.  “That’s… He wrote his phone number.”

“Wait, what?!” Bokuto shrieked as he snatched the paper from Daichi’s hand.  “Holy—he did!  Shy little Kenma wrote his phone number on this for—“

“Let me see that!” Kuroo scrambled to his feet and lunged at Bokuto, eyes wide. 

He pressed the paper to his thigh in an attempt to smooth out the wrinkles, and then he saw them—eleven, lightly-scrawled numbers with dashes through the sevens and a flat top to the three.  He read the numbers several times over, memorizing them.

“He… he gave me his number.”

“I’m honestly shocked,” Bokuto said to the others.  “The things I hear about this guy from Akaashi, I would never have guessed in a million years that—“

“Should I call him now?!” Kuroo gasped.

“Kuroo, be sensible, he’s on duty.” Daichi sighed.

“Oh… right.” Kuroo’s shoulders slumped.  “I need to go… make an itinerary.”

“An itinerary?” Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“For our date.  Things to do, places to eat… I should think of what to wear, what gifts to bring… I hope he doesn’t have any food allergies.  Do people still kiss on first dates?”

“Nope.  This is above my paygrade.” Iwaizumi threw up his hands and shuffled away from the group.

“Well if it’s above his, it’s definitely above mine.” Daichi added.

“Fine!  I see how it is!  Great teamwork, you—“

“Kuroo… don’t worry about it!” Bokuto slung an arm over Kuroo’s shoulder with a grin.  “I’ll have a talk with Akaashi, and the four of us could go on like a double-date or something!”

“Well… I should probably okay that with—“

Kuroo’s phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket, making the both of them jump.  He checked it to find a text from an unknown number.

> _It’s Kenma.  I got your number from Akaashi a couple of days ago actually.  Double-date.  Saturday night, meet me at 5?_

Kuroo stared at the text blankly for several seconds before he quietly said,

“…I think my soft-voiced angel is actually a little shit.  Probably.” 

* * *

 

Kuroo fidgeted with the cuffs of his sleeves—rolled up?  Left down?  Should he wear his shirt buttoned up properly or opened with a T-shirt layered underneath?  Considering the ripped jeans he had picked out—the ones that accentuated his bum quite nicely—casual was probably the better way to go.  He pulled on a white V-neck to wear under the red and black flannel, gave his hair one last, feeble tousle, then ran out the door.

Akasaka station wasn’t all that crowded or bustling, but even if it had been, Kuroo could probably still have picked Kenma out of the crowd given two factors: first, the hair.  Really, Kenma had little grounds to judge Kuroo for his bedhead given he couldn’t be bothered to maintain his roots.  Second, he had Kuroo’s shirt wrapped around his waist beneath a white hoodie.  Not _his_ shirt, per se… but he was fairly certain it was the same brand, same style… they had matching shirts.  Somehow, they had each shown up to their first date wearing the exact same shirt.

“Hey.” Kenma gave a small nod of his head as Kuroo approached, keeping his hands tucked into the big front pocket of his hoodie. 

“Hi… Is that…?”

“Akaashi gave it to me and told me I should wear it tonight.”

“And that’s _wearing_ it?” Kuroo smirked. 

“I don’t like button-up shirts.  They’re not as comfortable.”

“Not compared to a hoodie, no, I guess not.” Kuroo laughed.  “So we’re supposed to meet the other two at Hikawa shrine, but I’ve never been to this area…”

“Me neither.” Kenma pulled out his phone.  “But we have smartphones.”

Once out of the station and above ground, Kenma pulled up his GPS to get their bearings, though he didn’t exactly look up from his screen as they walked.  More than once Kuroo had to pull him by the elbow out of harm’s way or to keep him from running into someone.

“Are you usually this oblivious as you walk?”

“I don’t run into stuff _that_ often,” Kenma shrugged.  “Sometimes when I’m not paying attention I end up someplace I’ve never been before, but again, that’s what GPS is for.” 

“Or… you could pay a little more attention to your surroundings?” Kuroo suggested.  “Seriously, I’m pretty sure Sawamura gives this lecture to children in school.  Pay attention when out and about, kids, and don’t go with strangers.” 

“I’m sure he does a better job at it than you.” Kenma said nonchalantly. 

“You’d be _exactly_ the type of kid to get snatched for spacing out.”

“Ah, we were supposed to take a left two blocks ago.”

“If you’re going to pay that much attention to your phone, shouldn’t your navigation be a little better?” Kuroo laughed. 

“You were distracting me.”

“With my dashing good looks, I assume.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…please say something,” Kuroo pleaded.

“You’re a dork.” Kenma replied flatly.

“…I know, I’m sorry.” Kuroo’s shoulders slumped. 

He was honestly very bad at flirting, despite everything people assumed, and he had little to no practice doing it.  A few high school romances left him with only the realization that he had no idea how to talk to girls, and that many of them had certain expectations of him based on his appearance.  Expectations he could _not_ live up to. 

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Kenma reassured him quietly.  “If you’re a dork, you’re easier to talk to.  I’m not good with actually charming people.”

“That was somehow both a really sweet thing to say and an immense blow to my pride.” Kuroo lay a hand over his chest, feigning injury.  If being a dork was winning him brownie points right now, he might as well ham it up.  “But… I think you just admitted to being comfortable around me, so I’ll take it.”

Kenma said nothing, but as they approached the shrine and the passerby grew more and more scarce, he dared reach out to brush his fingertips lightly against Kuroo’s, wondering what sort of response he could provoke.  The chief blushed lightly, eyes blinking rapidly before he reached back and gently curled his fingers around Kenma’s.  Kenma was reminded of that light brush of their fingertips back in his office at the station… here again was that broad hand with its long, calloused fingers, again the gentle, questioning touch.  Kenma felt his chest grow surprisingly warm as he pulled Kuroo’s hand into a tighter grip.  This was new.  The EKG of Kenma’s life had hitherto always been a flat-line—consistent and unchanging.  Here at last came the blip of a heartbeat, and the reading confused him.  But it excited him too.

“You’re okay holding hands in public?” Kuroo asked quietly, watching for passerby.

“Are you?”

“If… if you are.”

So their fingers stayed linked.

Although they were a fashionable ten minutes late, they were still the first ones to arrive at the shrine proper with Bokuto and Akaashi nowhere in sight.  Kuroo couldn’t say he minded; it offered him more time to talk to his date.  And he only had about ten thousand questions. 

“So what do you do on your days off?” Kuroo asked as Kenma sat himself down on the steps. 

“Mostly stay home and play video games.”

Somehow, he expected that.  “What kind of games?”

“All different kinds.  I like handheld ones since I can take them on the go.”  Kenma pulled out a 3DS from his pocket, the little green light indicating that he had accumulated street-passes.

“I played a couple of Pokemon games as a kid,” Kuroo recalled with some fondness.  “I never could get all of them, but my friends and I used to do the cable battles.  Back in the days before WiFi.”

“Do you always sound like such an old man?” Kenma smirked.  “Once you actually catch them all the game is pretty boring actually.  Especially if you never bother with battling other people.”

“Wait, have you ever actually caught them all?”

Kenma held up two fingers in a sheepish victory sign, and Kuroo gave a melodramatic gasp.  It was maybe a little awkward to admit at twenty-eight years old, but he had tried really really _really_ hard as a kid to actually catch them all.

“Ahh… well I guess I can’t compete with an actual gamer-type.”

“Do you… play games often?”

“Not with any regularity since college, to be honest…” Kuroo scratched his head.  “But even then it was mostly arcade-style… one-on-one fighting stuff… I’m no good at all these new shooter games, and I never had the time for a long RPG.  Not between classes and volleyball practice.”

“You played volleyball?” Kenma repeated.  “What position—wait, I’ll guess… middle blocker.”

Kuroo’s mouth gaped.  In his search for interests they had in common, he had not expected volleyball to be make it to the list. 

“Did… did you play?!  How did you guess what I—wait, what position were you—wait!  I’ll guess yours since you guessed mine.” Kuroo put a hand thoughtfully to his chin.

Kenma watched the gears turn in Kuroo’s mind with no small amount of amusement.  His eyes had really lit up when Kenma guessed his position correctly.  It was endearing already.

“I’m stuck between libero and setter…” Kuroo mumbled.  “If I guess correctly, do I get to claim a prize?”

“What sort of prize?”

“To be determined later!” Kuroo winked.

Kenma frowned.  Smart people never agreed to a contract without clearly outlined suppositions, but Kenma also had difficulty refusing a challenge presented as a game. 

“Then can I decide my prize for guessing yours correctly?”

“Oh.  Oh yeah.” Kuroo made a face.  “You’re not… you’re not gonna make me do something super embarrassing, are you?”

“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Well that’s ominous…” Kuroo feigned a shudder.

“Hey hey hey!!!” came a familiar voice from the distance. 

The two turned to see Akaashi and Bokuto—also in matching shirts (though theirs was a grey plaid)—heading their way, Bokuto waving both arms to call their attention because he definitely wasn’t the most noticeable thing around. 

“Cool shirts, guys!” Bokuto winked, nudging Kuroo’s arm.

“So this was _your_ ridiculous idea.” Kuroo grumbled. 

He may not have any expertise when it came to dating protocol, but he was pretty sure first-date-matching-shirts was a trend that met an abrupt end after high school. 

“You know what, Akaashi’s got my back on this, so I don’t need your approval, _Chief_!”

Akaashi sidled up quietly beside Kenma as Bokuto and Kuroo continued to bicker.  He gave a small wave as he asked in a low voice,

“Did we come at a bad time or a good one?”

“Depends on who you ask, I think.” Kenma replied equally quietly.  “But… I think I’m having a good time.  Probably.”

“Probably?”  Akaashi raised an eyebrow.

“Well it’s not over yet.  I’ll know better in a few hours.”

But to Kenma, it was even really about how _he_ felt.  He was compliant to most situations, and with the right people he could be himself and be reasonably comfortable.  That was all he needed.  He didn’t ‘lose interest,’ usually people lost interest in him.  He’d only ever dated two people in his life, both approached him first and were also the first ones to walk away.  In retrospect, it was difficult to remember if he had felt any sort of heartache; certainly he never tried to stop them leaving.  So probably not.  In any case, he was still friends with Shouyou and Lev, so there was no lingering bitterness. 

His eyes wandered over to Kuroo, standing beside Bokuto with a reprimanding scowl on his handsome face, half commanding officer and half friend.  When Kuroo caught him staring, he smiled, and Kenma felt his placid heart jolt to action.  Maybe this was what it meant to be interested?  Anyway, hadn’t Kenma made the first move this time? 

“No…” he corrected himself.  “I _am_ having a good time.” 

The four then did their due diligence at the shrine, donating coins and ringing the bell to pray for good fortune in whatever form… Bokuto wishing after Akaashi’s health, Akaashi wishing for Kenma to enjoy himself during the rest of their evening together, Kuroo praying that he wouldn’t do anything stupid to ruin the evening, and Kenma… he always had trouble with things like this.  Normally he wished for a new game or good health for his family.  But for once he found himself maybe wanting something a little bit more.  What more and how much more he wasn’t certain, but just… _more._  

Everyone except Bokuto kept their prayers a secret, and after a few embarrassed punches, they proceeded to a nearby restaurant for dinner and drinks.  The standard.

“Pretty sure I could live off just yakiniku and swear off all other food if I had to.” Bokuto said, drooling as the various cuts of meat sizzled on the grill at their table. 

“Well thank goodness you don’t have to.” Akaashi added.  “You’d have quite a few deficiencies in nutrient intake.”

“Nah… protein is all you really need.” Bokuto replied with a lopsided grin.

Kuroo turned over a piece of chicken to see that it was cooked, then gently placed it on Kenma’s plate beside his.

“You’ve eaten the least here,” he pointed out.  “No need to be shy.”

“I’m not that hungry.” Kenma pouted, but he ate the chicken he was given.                                                                            

“Kenma’s a light eater,” Akaashi supplemented.  “Except with sweets.  There’s always extra room for dessert.”

“Must be why he’s so short.” Bokuto nodded thoughtfully.

“I’m a perfectly average height for a Japanese man.  You’re just a giant.” Kenma bit back, eyes narrowed.

Kuroo placed another piece from the grill onto Kenma’s plate, who was now outright frowning at him.

“I just said—“

“Indulge me.” Kuroo smiled.

 _Curse him and his damned smile._ Kenma glared for several more seconds before he popped the second piece into his mouth, chewing with a stubborn slowness.  This only further endeared him to Kuroo, who gave a dweeby chuckle, his eyes crinkling with warmth.

“Are you my mom or my date?”

“So your mom has to suffer this too?”

Kenma bit his lip as Kuroo laughed, and Akaashi leaned over to whisper into Bokuto’s ear,

“I think they would have been just fine on their own without us, don’t you think?”

“I’m getting that feeling,” Bokuto whispered back.  “We could find an excuse to sneak away?  Leave them be, let things develop?”

“My thoughts exactly, but let’s at least finish dinner.”

* * *

 

“Here I thought he’d have a stomach of steel.  In the end, it wasn’t too much beer but too much meat that got him?  It’s so ridiculous, I’m not sure what to make of it.” Kuroo mused as he and Kenma waved at Bokuto and Akaashi from the outside of the station gates, Akaashi escorting a ‘nauseated’ Bokuto for the subway ride home. 

Once the two went down the stairs to the platform and were out of sight, Kenma stuffed his hands into his pocket.  “So what now?”

“Well, _they_ had the itinerary so I’ll admit to having nothing planned.” Kuroo said nervously.  “And… it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date so I can’t rely on any recent experience.”

“That’s surprising.” Kenma muttered.

Kuroo ignored the remark against his impeccable character and looked around the station for ideas.  Usually the station itself would have local attractions and restaurants listed.  However uninspired those ideas may be, they were preferable to standing around by the ticket gates, twiddling their thumbs for the rest of the night. 

“Sweet tooth… right?” Kuroo remembered with a snap.  “There’s a café/bakery thing on this map not too far from here.”

Kenma shrugged, looking away and pursing his lips.  “Whatever’s fine.”

“You look happy about it though.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

Kenma huffed and pulled up his hood—they were behaving like children, and he was _not_ used to being pulled along so easily at someone else’s pace. 

“Let’s just go.”

“That’s the wrong way.”

It took several more minutes of huffing and puffing before Kenma finally stopped pouting as they walked.  But after Kuroo promised to foot the bill for dessert, Kenma’s mood lightened considerably, and with enough stupid banter, it was just too much effort to keep a frowny face for long.  He was sure Kuroo would’ve treated him anyway, petulant child or no, but it was maybe slightly more satisfying to think he’d been guilted into it a little. 

A matcha powdered cake served Kuroo just fine, and a seasonal fresh fruit tart would do for Kenma, who could not find his favorite apple pie on the menu.  Now settled into their seats with their selections ordered, it was time for the knitty gritty.  Kenma figured they were comfortably past the initial pleasantries, and he didn’t like that to drag on and on. 

“So why are you interested in me anyway?”  Kenma favored the direct approach.

“Eh?”

“You were interested in me after one meeting, and I wasn’t particularly nice or charming at that time.  I’m curious as to what you saw in me.”

“Whoah… aren’t these the types of questions you ask cutely on like… a five-year anniversary date as you wistfully reflect on all the happy times spent together with the love of your life?”  Kuroo laughed nervously, leaning back into the booth.

“By that time, most people forget information like that.  I’m asking while it’s fresh in your mind.”

“So that I can feel extra awkward about not really having a solid reason?”

“Love at first sight?” Kenma asked skeptically.

“Not as cliché as _that_.” Kuroo groaned as the waiter came by to deliver Kuroo’s tea and Kenma’s soda.  “I guess it was more… I felt a spark of chemistry?”

“How is that _not_ cliché?” Kenma laughed.

“It’s… not.  Strictly speaking.  But in that case, what about you?”

“Curiosity.”

“Ah.  And… has that curiosity been… sated?”

Kenma slowly sipped his soda up the straw, letting the carbonation sit in his mouth and tickle his nose for a minute.  “Hmm… not yet.  So lucky you, there’s at least a second date in our future.”

Kuroo stared, eyes wide, mouth gaping.  Here, he had been concerned about how to ask for a second date without sounding like a dingus, but then Kenma went ahead and asked for him.  With absolute nonchalance.  Not all that dissimilar to how he had been asked out for this first date, really.  Goodness, he really was failing to take charge here.

“That is… if you’re interested.” Kenma amended, chewing on his straw.

Kuroo groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

“I’ve been spending all my time wondering if you felt any attraction for me whatsoever or if maybe this was some consolatory pity date.  So trust me, you don’t have to worry about this end.  I’m awful at playing hard-to-get.”  _And you’ve already got me._

Kenma flushed just as their cakes arrived (perfect timing, really) and dug in immediately so that he could avoid accidentally saying something frightfully revealing.  But the odd thing was that no matter how much something _should_ have been embarrassing or off-putting, their every interaction came naturally and without effort. 

Somehow Kuroo understood all of his sarcasm and was unoffended—he knew already that most of Kenma’s protests and complaints were empty air, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy Kenma’s company despite it.  All of this, the ease of it, was shock enough already, but the greater surprise was Kenma’s own comfort.  Kenma, who was naturally ill at ease with most human interaction, who could count all of his friends on one hand and his acquaintances on the other, called a hermit and a loner… suddenly, he found immediate camaraderie with this handsome fire chief with stupid hair.  The smiles came easier, the conversation effortless—like they had been friends all their life and understood not only the nuances of each other’s voices but also the unspoken words in the silent in-betweens. 

It was too bizarre to process, so Kenma tried to simply enjoy it, which wasn’t difficult.

As far as first dates went, it wasn’t the most eventful or exciting or even the most romantic of the two first dates Kenma had previously experienced.  But it was by far the most comfortable. 

Even though Kuroo needed to take the subway in the opposite direction to get home, he insisted on escorting Kenma all the way home, even though Kenma lived much closer and was a grown-ass man who could get himself home without incident.  But they knew it wasn’t about manners or chivalry; Kuroo just wanted more time together and was inclined to be generous with his own time and travel expenses.

“This is my building,” Kenma gestured at the end of their short walk from the station, and Kuroo could plainly see a key was required to get into the building before anyone could head upstairs.  “Thanks… for… for tonight.”  And then, “I… actually had a good time.”

“Haha… glad I wasn’t too disappointing.” Kuroo held out his hand.  “Until next time?”

“What is that?” Kenma stared at Kuroo’s outstretched hand. 

“My hand… for a handshake…?”

“Is that your way of telling me I was an awful date?”

“What?! No, I was just—I didn’t want to be presump—“

“Kuro, I’m kidding.” And then Kenma stood on his tip-toes briefly to kiss Kuroo lightly on the cheek before pulling out his keys and letting himself into his building.  “Call me.”

“Ah…”

Kenma smiled, letting a small chuckle escape him as the glass door closed between them.  He gave a small wave, which Kuroo barely managed to return—he was evidently very dazed—and then he walked further inside and got into the elevator.  When he stepped out on his floor, his phone gave a small buzz and he opened a new text from Kuroo that read:

> **_Setter._ **

Kenma smiled broadly.  Biting his lip, he texted back.

> _Bingo._
> 
> **_Yay!  I’ll have to think carefully on my prize._ **
> 
> _Sure.  I already took mine._
> 
> **_You did?!  
>  Oh.  Oh you mean… _ **
> 
> _Dork._

Kuroo sent a flurry of embarrassed emojis as Kenma unlocked the door to his apartment, kicking off his shoes before throwing himself down onto his couch.  Not used to going out on his off days, he was more tired than he liked, but less tired than he expected.  His phone gave one last, delayed buzz, and Kenma squinted at the bright screen in the darkness to read:

> **_Miss you already._ **

* * *

 

Between weekly dates, late night phone calls, good morning texts, and sporadic lunch dates, three months flew by in a flash of feeling.  Kuroo seamlessly found his way into Kenma’s schedule, and they quickly became a part of the other’s weekly, if not daily, routine.  Kuroo’s time was far more limited than Kenma’s, so the blond accepted whatever availability Kuroo offered, never once turning him away.  It was different from the life he’d led for a while before this, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. 

“Good night,” Kuroo smiled at the end of their weekly date.

Always he would walk Kenma back to his apartment, then squeeze his hand and kiss him gently.  Sometimes it was the forehead or the cheek, nose if Kuroo was feeling playful.  Kenma would scowl and demand a proper kiss on the lips, and some nights, he could persuade Kuroo into a little tongue.

The problem was that it always stopped at the doorstep.  No matter how heated the kissing got, Kuroo would always shyly excuse himself at the end of it, and while that made sense for the first month of their courtship, Kenma was beginning to get more than a little frustrated. 

“Do you think Kuroo’s a virgin?”  Kenma asked one afternoon, sending Akaashi into a choking fit from inhaling his hot drink the wrong way. 

“I’m sorry?!” Akaashi rasped out between coughs.  “Why on earth would I know—“

“You’ve known him longer.”

“I’ve known _about_ him for longer, and only through Bokuto.  I’ve never spent any time alone with him, Kenma.”

“Still… _do_ you think he’s a virgin?”

“You really need to stop asking that _right_ after I take a sip of my drink.” Akaashi grumbled, dabbing at his chin with a napkin.  “I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose now.”

“It’s been three months and all we’ve done is kiss.  I don’t know what’s considered an appropriate waiting period before inviting someone to your bed, but I think he’s actually trying to avoid it now.”

“Have you actually invited him verbally?”

“Well… no.” Kenma lowered his head, letting his hair fall into his face.  “I’ve… never needed to before.”

“Well you can’t really expect him to take charge without first letting him know you’re okay with it.  And puppy eyes don’t count.” Akaashi managed a proper drink of his tea.  “I may not know much about the man, but he’s very much a gentleman.  He probably won’t do anything until you explicitly initiate things.”

“Sticking my tongue in his mouth doesn’t count as initiating?” Kenma asked when Akaashi’s tea was set firmly down on the table.

“What in the world has your previous experience been?!”

Well, if he was made to think about it… He and Shouyou never got past holding hands, and Lev awkwardly stuck his tongue down his throat two seconds after a flustered confession.  That and the first time he had done it with Lev had been clumsy and more than a little painful, their ‘magical’ first night coming right at the heels of their first date.  A date in which Lev threw up on himself in the ferris wheel after rocking it against Kenma’s warnings, and in which he arrived forty minutes late with an awful new haircut. 

Kenma sighed into his hand.  “…not great.”

Bless his heart, he adored Lev, but at a considerable distance.  And those weeks with Shouyou was more an exercise in semantics, since nothing about their relationship changed between ‘friendship’ and ‘dating.’  Neither of them knew better until Shouyou met Kageyama and then all of a sudden, the difference between friendship and dating became very clear indeed. 

“I won’t ask, but… if you want to take your relationship to a different level, you are going to have to communicate it clearly.  With words.”

“Is that how you did it with Bokuto?”

“Well… no.  He… he broached the subject first… when we were already mostly naked, but the _point_ is, is… um.  Clear communication is key.”

“Hmm… I wonder if I’ll have to take charge.  That’ll be new.” Kenma mused. 

Somehow the thought of coaxing a shy, flustered, half-naked Kuroo into spreading his legs was… NOT what he needed to be thinking about in public.

“Kenma, I may not know Kuroo well, but I feel reasonably certain that you don’t have to worry about him being a virgin.” Akaashi said carefully, whispering the last word. 

“Shhh… I’m having fun with this idea now.”

Akaashi smiled then, leaning back in his chair.  “I suppose I’m glad to hear it’s going well between you two.  It was my first time playing match-maker; I’d feel awful if you two turned out to hate each other.”

“You wouldn’t have gone along with any of it if you had thought we were incompatible.”  Kenma swirled his juice.  “But I suppose I should thank you.  And Bokuto.  And that broken equipment that took me over to that station the first time.”

“Life’s little surprises?”

Kenma normally hated surprises.  But meeting Kuroo Tetsurou had to be one of the better surprises he’d ever had.  Beneath the casual nonchalance and familiar banter, Kenma was filled with more affection than he had ever thought possible from himself.  And really, isn’t that where his frustration was coming from?  For the first time in his life, he felt proper _desire_ for another person, and it _ached_ for reciprocation.

“I’ll be clear.” He said firmly.  “Crystal clear.”

“I wish you all the best then.”

Suddenly, both Akaashi’s radio and cell phone went off, the radio message fuzzy and frantic, but unmistakably reporting an emergency.  Several heads in the café turned in their direction as they heard the beeping.

_Calling all units in sector five, sector five, calling all units.  Report to Mishuku, second district.  Suspected arson; radio in._

Akaashi called in.

“Officer Akaashi, sector five.  Calling in, I’m on my way.” Rising from the table, he shot Kenma an apologetic look.  “Duty calls, I’m afraid.”

“Be safe.” Kenma called after his friend, suddenly nervous.

It was easy to forget giving the daily grind that most of Kenma’s acquaintances were police officers and firefighters, men who put their lives on the line every day they reported for work.  Not many died in the line of duty, but the possibility was very real.  And sector five was…

“Kuro…”

* * *

 

“I need this perimeter cleared within a two block radius, any severe injuries report to Mishuku Hospital.  Clear civilians into Setagaya Park; get ‘em out of the streets!” Kuroo barked orders left and right, commanding his men.  “Sawamura, Iwaizumi, Bokuto; I need adjacent buildings evacuated _yesterday_ ; take your teams and get to it!”

“Yes sir!” His captains replied in unison as they did final checks on their gear, double-checking each other’s equipment before rushing off, leading their own men and borrowed firefighters from other stations.

Police on the scene were ushering evacuated citizens away from the area, sending the wounded to the EMT’s and the rest to the designated safety zone in the park.  Akaashi had arrived later than most, but he was far from unneeded.  His commanding officer moved him to assist the EMT’s, assessing potential patients for levels of treatment.  Thankfully, the majority of injuries were bruises and scrapes obtained in the panic of an evacuating crowd, only a few had been close enough to the starting fire to sustain burns or possible smoke damage.  Mostly, there was shock.  And a whole lot of questions.

News crews kept their distance, knowing not to pester the firefighters as they doused the flames, but stopping police officers as they attempted to escort civilians—as if they were somehow less busy.  But soon their cameras turned as they all heard a distinctive cracking sound from the blazing building. 

“The signboard!” someone cried out.

Kuroo called into his radio.  “All units, be advised of falling debris as you evacuate citizens—Sawamura, it’s closer to your building.”

“Roger, Chief. “ came a squawk in his ear.

Moments later, a small crowd of people streamed out of the building Sawamura and his men were evacuating.  Officers rushed forward to direct them away in the right direction.  Another loud crack sounded above them, and one of the signboards attached to the burning building fell from seven stories high.  It landed with a scream of groaning metal and a flurry of shattered glass—a few nearby screamed—but no one was hurt.

Firefighters on the ground directed their sprays of water upward, hoping to avoid further falling debris.  The blaze was contained, it didn’t appear a threat to spread, but Kuroo had an uneasy feeling.  As Sawamura’s team cleared the danger zone, Kuroo radioed in.

“Where the hell is my back-up?”

“Ushijima’s team is en route to you, but there’s a lot of traffic in their way.”

“Figures,” Kuroo mumbled.

“You really think we need the extra manpower, Chief?” Daichi huffed as he pulled off his mask.  “It seems contained.”

“Better safe than sorry.  I’d rather have too many men than not enough.”

Iwaizumi radioed in from two buildings down.  “On our way out.  I’m gonna need immediate EMT assistance—I have an elderly man, who can’t move well on his own.  Possible minor smoke damage.  A lot of coughing.”

“I’m on it.” Daichi told Kuroo before running off to grab an EMT team from a nearby ambulance and head in Iwaizumi’s direction.

Well that made two… “Bokuto, status report.” But the comm crackled and squawked piercingly in reply.  “Bokuto, come in.  Report.”  Again, he was met with unintelligible static.

From the building behind, one of Bokuto’s team came rushing over, out of breath and covered in soot, bits of him smoking and smoldering. 

“Don’t tell me…” Kuroo groaned.

“Chief!” Firefighter Konoha pulled off his mask in a flourish, gasping.  “The fire’s spread sir!  To the building behind—we think some windows blew with the draft.”

“I need aerial confirmation of the spread, can I get helicopter visual?” Kuroo called into a different channel. 

“Sir, they’re trapped.” Konoha pressed.

“Tell me what floor.”

“Eighth.”

Four floors from the roof, eight from the ground.  A perfectly acceptable height for a crane, but they’d be unable to fit the truck into the narrow alleyway between the buildings.  And there was still the risk of falling debris from the primary blaze.  A rooftop rescue was their best option if the team couldn’t get down.  But coms were blown.

“How many civilians?”

“A dozen or so.”

Kuroo made the call.

“I need the back-up truck to handle containing the second fire as soon as it gets here—I want no further spread of this.  Aerial teams one, two, and three, stand by for rooftop recovery; estimated twelve civilians.”  Kuroo turned to Konoha.  “Their coms are down, we need to get to them to tell them to go up to the roof.  Can you lead us back to them?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Kuroo, you can’t go in there,” Iwaizumi called over the com, having listened in.

“The helicopters can’t get in the space between the buildings to let them know what to do.  And I’m not losing them.  Iwaizumi, you’re acting-Chief if something happens to me.  I need monitoring of building structural integrity throughout, EMTs on the ready.” 

“Understood.” Came Iwaizumi’s hard reply.

Kuroo began pulling on his gear as Konoha switched out helmets for functioning communications.  They grabbed a few extra tools that wouldn’t’ weight them down excessively—axes to get past structural barriers—and with not a moment to lose, they rushed back into the flames.

The ground floor and the couple of floors above were easy passage—the fire had caught several floors up and hadn’t quite worked its way down.  But floors four and above were ablaze, and the building lacked a single, contiguous stairwell.  At floor six, they had to make their way across the floor down a smoke-filled hallway with near-zero visibility to find the continuing stairwell upward.  They lost precious time fumbling about over burning debris, but still they pressed onward. 

When they turned the landing between floors seven and eight, Kuroo’s eyes widened at the half-demolished stairwell and the fallen roof beams, burning merrily away. There was no way Bokuto’s group could escape down.

“Bokuto!”

“Captain!!”

“Konoha?!” came a frazzled cry from the other side of the wreckage.  “You came back?!  I told you to get rescue!”

“Bokuto!” Kuroo called, removing his mask against protocol so that his voice could better carry through the noise of fire and the unnerving crackling of the building disintegrating around them.  “Aerial rescu!  Get yourself and the others to the roof!”  He coughed and breathed into his mask.

“I’ve got two injured who might not make it that far!”

“Make it happen, Bokuto; because you’re sure as hell not coming through this mess!”

Konoha made a few feeble attempts to hack away at the beams that blocked their path, but it was hard to get balanced footing around the missing steps.

“Roger that!” Bokuto called after some minutes.

They could hear him giving instructions to the group, logistics of who would go first, who would help carry the injured… The walls groaned around them.

“Bokuto!”

“We’re headed up!  You guys head back down to safety!”

More than anything, Kuroo was nervous to have Bokuto fall out of communication range again.  Once he and Konoha evacuated, there would be no entering the building a third time—they’d have to simply wait for the helicopter crews to confirm rescue.

“Sir, we have to go!” Konoha shouted, pulling Kuroo out of his thoughts.

Bokuto would do what he had to, Kuroo thought.  In the meantime, he would not put Konoha’s life at more risk than he had already.  He’d never lost a man on his watch, and he would _not_ start today.

“Lead the way!”

The flames were burning even wilder around them as they descended—a sign that the back-up crews must not have arrived still—and they dashed as fast as they could.  By now the flames reached all the way to the ground floor and an intense amount of smoke filled every corner of the building.  As they turned the landing to descend to the third floor, they felt the entire building quiver and groan around them, their ears filling with additional ambient noise from outside.

“They must have made it to the roof!” Konoha shouted above the din.  “I think those are the rescue helicopters!”

Then the bannisters crumbled from the stairs above them, crashing down in a flurry of burning wood. 

“Konoha!  Watch out!!”

Kuroo flung himself down the stairs to shove him out of the way, and he felt the weight of the beams come crashing down onto his shoulders.  He tumbled forward down the rest of the stairs, the debris falling with him.  He hit his head—his helmet sounding a sickening crunch—at the bottom of the landing and felt his consciousness flee from his grasp.

* * *

 

He startled awake, the sound of the burning building echoing in his ears, and he thought for a moment that he was still in the fire.  But the air he inhaled was clean and his vision unhindered by smoke, the sheets beneath him soft and comfortable; he was in a hospital bed.

“Kuro!”

And Kenma was beside him—well, _on_ him now.  Kenma’s arms were wrapped firmly around his neck though his body trembled.

“K-Kenma… you’re choking me…”

“Sorry!  Sorry…” Kenma mumbled as he pulled reluctantly away.

“Did the others make it out okay?”

“They’re fine—they’re all fine.  Bokuto was in for a sprain, but—can’t you worry about yourself for now?” Kenma pleaded, his face flushed with relief.

“Habit,” Kuroo grinned.  “I have to ask about my men.  No major injuries, no civilian casualties?  When did back-up arrive?”

“Kuro… I wasn’t there.” Kenma grumbled.  “Even if I were, why would they tell me anything?  Anyway, it’s over, stop thinking about it, please?  I’ve been worried sick.”

“I’m sorry… I can’t believe you came to see me—“ Kuroo tried to reach out to cradle Kenma’s face, and that’s when he felt it—he couldn’t quite move his arm.  “Oh… that’s a cast.”

“Idiot,” Kenma huffed.  “You had a concussion, and you broke your arm… you’ve been out for several days.”

“Days?!” Kuroo ran a hand through his hair, bangs completely falling into his eyes.  “Well, that’s going to be a lot of paperwork to catch up on—“

Kenma sniffed, bringing Kuroo out of his shock. 

“Oh… Kenma, don’t cry…” Kuroo reached out with his good hand to tuck Kenma’s hair behind his ears.  “Everything turned out all right.”

Kenma took the offered hand and kissed the fingertips, then the palm, then cradled it to his face, eager to feel that warm, familiar touch on his skin.  His heart was aflutter with relief and exhaustion.  He’d come to sit by Kuroo’s bedside every day after getting off work, where he’d been pulling long hours in the wake of the Mishuku fire.  He’d never been so worried in all his life.  When Akaashi and Bokuto had told him ‘comatose,’ he had felt his heart shatter.  This was heart-ache, at last he knew.  And longing.  And love.

“Getting hurt saving someone else’s life… you’re a walking cliché.” Kenma scolded half-heartedly.

“Says the one who came to sit at my bedside until I woke up?” Kuroo smiled softly.

“Don’t ever do that again.”

“I can’t promise that.” Kuroo whispered sadly.

“Why not?” Kenma asked petulantly.

“I’m a firefighter.  My job is to save lives—I’m always going to think of my own health and safety second to another person’s.  The next time I’m in a situation like that, I know I’ll make the exact same choice.”  He laced their fingers together, dropping his gaze.  “But… this is my first time realizing… how stressful that’s going to be for you.  If… If that’s not something you’re up for… I’d understand.”

Page the doctor, his chest was so tight he could scarcely breathe.

“Kuro—“

“Oh, you’re awake!” A nurse cried suddenly as he entered the room.

Kuroo immediately unlinked their hands, smiling politely at the nurse as he drew near.

“I’ll need to take your vitals and page the doctor, though you’re looking better than I expected!  I’m sorry…” he looked apologetically at Kenma.  “I’m afraid I’ll need you to step out while we examine him.  And visiting hours are near up for the day…”

“I…” Kenma started to argue, but Kuroo cut him off.

“I’ll call you, assuming they have my phone.  Go home and get some rest.”

Kenma gave Kuroo a sour look—he did _not_ want to continue their earlier conversation over the phone.  And what a horrid subject to leave hanging unfinished… But he was out-numbered so he grumbled a low good-bye before stepping out of the room, ignoring how the nurse’s eyes followed him.

“He’s come to see you every night,” the nurse told Kuroo with a wink as Kenma left the room.  “Stays until we have to shoo him out at night.  You’re very loved, Chief Kuroo.”

Kuroo tried and failed to contain his blush, but the nurse was gracious enough to avert his eyes as he paged the doctor.  Then he took a seat beside him, pulling his stethoscope around his ears and grabbing Kuroo’s chart from the foot of his bed.

“I’m going to listen to your heart and lungs, take your blood pressure, temperature, and ask you a few questions to confirm brain function and memory.  Lean forward, please.”

Kuroo did so and the nurse gently untied the back of his hospital gown, placing the cool diaphragm on his back.  He jumped at the sudden chill.

“Ah, sorry… forgot to warm it up a bit.  Take a deep breath, please.  Great, and another.  One more.  Okay, lean back.” 

The stethoscope was then placed over his heart as the nurse pulled up his wrist to monitor the time on his watch.

Kuroo knew the basics—his heart rate should be normal, he could expect a slight drop from his usual BP readings given that he’d just slept for several days—he had no idea what his lungs would sound like.  Hopefully not too raspy… He’d only removed his smoke mask for a short period…

“Well, better than I’d hoped in all honesty!” The nurse chimed, winking.  He did that a lot.  “Your vitals are quite strong—they might put you back on duty sooner than you’d really like if it weren’t for that arm.  But until that heals, I’m certain the doctor will either recommend taking worker’s compensation and time off, or firmly restricted to desk duty.  Personally, I’d take the time off.  If only to make Iwa-chan suffer your responsibilities for a little longer.”

“Iwa… chan…?” Kuroo snorted.  “Ohh… you must be Oikawa Tooru.”

“Don’t tell me my reputation precedes me!” he gasped giddily.

“Uhh… a lot.” Kuroo laughed nervously.  Not the most favorable reviews of the man escaped Iwaizumi’s lips, but clearly that was more to do with Iwaizumi’s emotional constipation than the man of the hour.

“If I ask you what he says about me, would you give me an honest answer?” Oikawa asked quietly.

“I’m not sure you’d like what you hear.”

“Well then, that’s really all I need to know.” He grinned knowingly.  “Promise me you’ll take the time off… for your health.  Take the time to spend with that boy who visits you every day, like a honeymoon!”

“He’s only a year younger than me, he’s not a boy… and it’s not what you think.”

“Sure it isn’t.” Oikawa raised an eyebrow as he crossed his arms.  “I see it all the time, you know.” He added, suddenly serious and somber.  “Firefighters, police officers… The injuries they suffer on the job, even deaths… and what it does to their loved ones.”

Kuroo averted his eyes then, staring guiltily at the sheets gripped tight between his fingers.

“Don’t pull away.” Oikawa advised firmly.  “Through the struggle and the pain, not a single person has ever regretted loving someone.  But they regret _leaving_ for years to come.  Sometimes forever.  If he wants to stay, you’ll do him more harm than good pushing him away than keeping him close.  Whatever your relationship is or isn’t.”

“A flashy guy that talks too much and doesn’t know how to hold back.” Kuroo mumbled. 

“Eh?”

“That’s what Iwaizumi says about you.  I’m starting to think it’s a fairly accurate representation.”  Kuroo grinned, pulling at his bangs.  “But I don’t dislike it.  Thank you for your advice and your candor.  I’ll be sure to think on it carefully.”

==

As advised, Kuroo found himself on paid leave for several weeks, and as soon as he was discharged from the hospital, he was greeted in the lobby by Kenma with whom he hadn’t spoken in a few days. 

“Hey.” Kuroo wiggled his fingers through his cast.

“Hey.” Kenma copied, his hands tucked in his hoodie pockets.  “I thought I’d walk you home and help with groceries, maybe cook you dinner.”

“That’s…” Kuroo stopped himself before he said the word ‘unnecessary.’ “That’s really thoughtful.  I’d… I’d appreciate that.”

“So come on, slowpoke.”

Kuroo chuckled and followed without another word.  Kenma led the way for a short distance, but his pace slowed as they neared the station. 

“You know we’re taking you home, right?” Kenma teased.  “Lead the way.  I don’t know where you live.”

He had said it as a joke, but it was actually a bit of a sore topic.  After over three months, he really did have no idea where Kuroo lived, and he was burning with curiosity.  Was he the messy bachelor type with a sty of an apartment?  Or maybe he was a slight neat freak and everything had to be kept in its proper place in his home.  Maybe he made an effort to coordinate his interior decorating, or maybe it was a horrid mish mash of clashing colors (like purple and greens, ugh).  Truth be told, Kenma didn’t care about any of these things… but he wanted many and more glimpses into Kuro’s life and the sort of man he was.  He wanted to know everything.

They opted for groceries first, and Kenma had to nearly break Kuroo’s other arm to keep him from carrying anything.  Soon after that, they were stepping into Kuroo’s modestly furnished apartment with the bare minimum requirements for a kitchen.  His largest pieces of furniture were bookshelves stacked full of books, magazines, comic books, movies… A lonely laptop sat on a short floor dining table only big enough for two, and behind an open door, Kenma could just make out a bed, covers unmade and clothes thrown all over it.  It felt like Kuroo, he thought. 

“Sorry for the mess…” Kuroo said bashfully.  “I wasn’t expecting visitors today—er, last week.  I’ll just tidy up a bit while you cook.”

Kenma doubted Kuroo would be able to get _much_ cleaning done with an arm in plaster, but he didn’t argue; he unpacked the groceries instead, opening all the kitchen drawers and cabinets so he could familiarize himself with where everything was kept.  And a half hour later, he was serving up two steaming plates of omelet rice on the too-small dining table. 

“Breakfast for dinner?” Kuroo smirked.

“I said I’d make you dinner.  I didn’t say it’d be good.  Or fancy.”  Indeed, the rice had been one of those pre-cooked, pre-packaged bowls from the ready-to-eat grocery section.

But Kuroo was digging in, an enormous smile plastered over his face as he ate, all happy sounds and praise.

“It’s the best omelet rice I’ve ever had.”

“That’s ‘cause you’ve been stuck with hospital food for days.” Kenma grumbled, too stubborn to admit he was pleased. 

“Can I ask for seconds?”

“I’d have to make more.  I only bought half a dozen eggs.  But there’s dessert… unless you really want me to get more eggs.” 

“No, don’t go.” Kuroo reached across the table with his good hand to thread their fingers together.  “Don’t go.” 

It’s what he meant to say from their conversation in the hospital.  He had opened the door, stepped aside, reminded Kenma how he could leave any time he wanted.  But such facts were obvious and didn’t need reminding.  What needed saying was Kuroo’s desire for Kenma to stay, because heaven help him, he wanted Kenma more than anything. 

“Stay…” He gave his thoughts voice before they escaped him and were lost.  “I know what I said, but—“

Kenma’s lips silenced him as the blond threw himself around the table to give his answer.  His fingers ran frantically through Kuroo’s hair as he pulled himself into Kuroo’s lap, nipping and nibbling his lips, then peppering kisses along his jaw.  They were both gasping when they pulled apart, lips swollen and eyes half-lidded. 

“I think I love you,” Kuroo whispered in a daze.

It took a second, actually several, before they were both staring wide-eyed at each other with the realization of what had just been confessed. 

“I—“ Kuroo stammered.

Kenma pulled himself out of Kuroo’s lap, red in the face and stumbled towards the door.

“Kenma!”

“I’m just heading to the store for some more eggs!” Kenma exhaled in one harried breath.  “And… and a tooth brush.”

“A tooth—wait!”

“I’m not going anywhere.” Kenma turned, as bright as a cherry, but oddly determined. “I mean, I’m going to the store, but… you… and me.  You’re stuck with me.  I’m not leaving.”

“K-Kenma…”

“I’m staying the night!” he declared before finally running out of the door, slamming it roughly behind him by accident as he made his escape. 

Kuroo threw his hands over his face with a muffled squeal before rolling over on the floor.  He lay there groaning for several minutes before anything resembling a coherent thought coalesced in his brain.

* * *

 

Over the coming weeks, Kenma came over near every day, spending nights on weekends, helping Kuroo clean and cook and manage a one-armed life.  Despite the conversation he had had with Akaashi weeks prior and despite his eagerness to be intimate with Kuroo… once he was actually alone with him, taking that extra initiative became… well, difficult.  He was, dare he say it, nervous. 

At the same time, it was difficult to know how his self-control was managing to hold on when he helped Kuroo into his pajamas, watching those finely-toned muscles ripple and grow taut as he pulled his arms up over his head. 

“I hope the guys are taking care of my animals as well as you’re taking care of me.  Vi can get persnickety sometimes… But I get the plaster removed next week!” Kuroo grinned as Kenma buttoned up the front of his pajama shirt.  “It’ll be nice to let my arm breathe.” 

“You’ll still get a brace to wear,” Kenma reminded him, keeping his eyes firmly locked on Kuroo’s impressive pectorals as they slowly disappeared behind a thin layer of striped fabric. 

“Yeah, but… I’ll at least be able to change my own clothes without flailing about like an idiot.” Kuroo sighed.  “I’ve really been a burden on you these past few weeks, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind…” Kenma shrugged.

Kuroo took his hands into his own and kissed the knuckles gently.  “I appreciate it, I really do.” He kissed the pale flesh on the inside of Kenma’s wrist, murmuring against the skin.  “Can I kiss you?”

“You can do a lot more than that,” Kenma breathed, and he wondered if Kuroo could feel his pulse quickening against his lips. 

“I want to.” Kuroo whispered as he drew closer.  “You don’t mind?”

Kenma gave an amused snort as he pressed their lips together, fingers curling into the fabric of Kuroo’s shirt collar. 

“Mind?  Every time you walked me home and didn’t come upstairs, I got so frustrated with you, I started to think maybe you were a virgin.” 

Kuroo’s steady stream of kisses along Kenma’s jaw came to an abrupt end at that, and he pulled away with an unreadable expression. 

“I wanted to go slow—the last thing I wanted to do was rush things… or pressure you—did you seriously think I was… Even if I _were_ , would you have held that against me?!”

“Nooo…” Kenma whined as he pulled their bodies back together.  “I just…” He nipped at Kuroo’s lower lip.  “I really want you.” 

That was all the encouragement Kuroo needed to wrap his good arm around Kenma’s waist and pull him into his lap, bringing their bodies flush and their tongues pressed insistently.  Kenma’s fingers flew to undo the buttons he had so meticulously buttoned minutes before, hands reaching eagerly inside the fabric to feel the firm wall of muscle that composed Kuroo’s chest and abdomen.  They felt just as good as they looked, better even… Just touching got him half-hard, but when Kuroo nibbled on his neck and slid those long fingers up his hoodie across his skin, he stood to full attention.  A brush against his nipple had Kenma keening, and he rocked his hips forward to press his aching erection against Kuroo’s abs.  He gasped at the much-wanted friction and smiled as he felt Kuroo growing hard beneath him. 

Their mouths sought the other’s like a base instinct.  Kenma pulled is hands from Kuroo’s skin to run them through his hair, pulling away only briefly when Kuroo tugged insistently upward on his hoodie and shirt.  If Kuroo had had the use of both his arms, they’d both be quite naked already, or at the very least, shirtless.  Kenma obliged, graciously removing his then Kuroo’s shirts before running his hands back across Kuroo’s magnificent chest. 

Gently, he pressed forward until Kuroo lay down onto the bed, his breathing ragged and uneven.  Straddling him, Kenma ground his hips down, hissing at the pressure, delighted by the sounds of Kuroo moaning beneath him.

His darling fire chief may not be a blushing virgin, but he was partially disabled and convalescent.  Kenma would have to lead the pace after all.  Sliding off Kuroo’s hips and down the bed, he tugged at Kuroo’s pants, setting his cock free, stiff and already gleaming with pre-cum.  Kenma took him into his mouth with a run of his tongue up the length, and Kuroo threw his head back, screwing his eyes shut and letting out a strangled cry. 

“Hngh!  Hah… K-Kenma…” He grabbed a fistful of silky blond hair and pulled, gasping.  “I’m… I’m gonna finish _way_ too soon if you do that.”

“Hmm…” Kenma considered, humming around the flesh in his mouth.  “Okay.”

He pulled himself off the bed and darted out to the living room briefly before returning with a small brown paper bag, out of which he pulled lubricant and condoms.

“When did you—“

“When I went grocery shopping without you for more eggs.” Kenma mumbled.

“But… that was weeks ago—where were you even keeping this?”

“Is that really important?”

“It is when you’re hiding questionable items around my apartment.  Were you working up the nerve to seduce me?” Kuroo grinned, letting his hair fall into his eyes.

“You talk too much,” Kenma grumbled as he pulled off his jeans and boxers, moving to straddle Kuroo again.

He rolled his hips and their lengths pressed together with an overwhelming heat.  Their voices mingled as they both cried out, and Kenma fell forward, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Kuroo’s head.  He hovered there for a long minute, letting his eyes linger on Kuroo’s flushed expression beneath him, lips swollen and eyelids fluttering softly with long, thick lashes.

 _He’s so handsome_ , Kenma thought, and he couldn’t remember ever having thought such a thing about anyone.  He considered voicing it when Kuroo murmured quietly,

“You’re so beautiful…”

“Wh—“

“Here.” Kuroo gently maneuvered one of Kenma’s hands to lay over his rapidly beating heart.  “I look at you, and this is what you do to me.”

“K-Kuro…”

Had he been standing, Kenma was sure he would have felt his knees grow weak.  Words like that could charm a siren, and he was certainly feeling a bit hypnotized.  But he pulled himself from his reverie to grasp at the bottle of lube and poured a generous amount onto his fingers.  It had been a while since his last… well.

Reaching behind, he pressed one finger slowly into himself with a voiceless moan, hips twitching with the effort and his own length leaking with want.  Kuroo attempted to reach around, but Kenma swatted his hand away, rasping out,

“Let me do it… Ngh… Let me take care of everything.”

Kuroo felt this was an extremely lopsided division of labor for their first time, but the only way he’d be able to argue against it would be to magically heal his broken arm.

“You sure?  It’s only our first… we don’t have to—“

“I want you in me.”

Well, he couldn’t really argue with that then.

“Mph!  Mm…”

Kenma moaned quietly as he worked himself, using one hand braced on Kuroo’s abdomen for balance.  Kuroo was about ready to burst he was so restless from just watching.

“Kenma…” he groaned after several minutes.  “Let me touch you…”

“Ngh… all right…”

After pouring a little more lubricant onto Kuroo’s fingers, Kenma scooted forward a bit and guided Kuroo’s fingers to his entrance, letting out a choked cry when Kuroo pushed one long finger smoothly inside in one quick motion. 

“Ah!”

Kuroo tested the pressure around his finger as Kenma fell forward onto his chest, panting and whimpering into his ear.  He found he could press a second finger in with relative ease, which elicited a rather lewd moan from the blond, and when he curled them, Kenma arched his back and let out a desperate cry that went straight to Kuroo’s cock. 

“K-Kuro…” Kenma whined, sinking his teeth into Kuroo’s shoulder.

“Not yet…” Kuroo winced, slowly pressing in a third finger.  “A little more…”

“Hnngh…”

Kenma’s fingers claws into the sheets as Kuroo filled and stretched him open—using his own fingers could never compare.  Kuroo was alternating slowly and deftly between twisting and thrusting his digits inside him, occasionally reaching deep and pressing against the sweet spot that made Kenma’s body lurch and shudder. 

“Kuro!  Kuro… Kuro…!” Kenma began chanting his name like a plea, thrusting his hips now back against those long, thick fingers and shivering as he felt the lube trickle down his thigh.  “Hngh… please…”

Kuroo pulled his fingers out, leaving Kenma gaping and empty, sobbing to be filled again.  But Kuroo was ever a man who stuck to protocol.  Fumbling with his one hand to fish the condoms out of the small paper bag, he passed a strip of them to Kenma with a grin, though his own breathing was labored and heavy.

“Do the honors?”

“Dork,” Kenma snorted, but he obliged, appreciating the low moan Kuroo gave as Kenma gave his cock some much-needed attention.

Another squirt of lubricant and a few sloppy kisses later, Kenma was positioning himself over Kuroo’s hips and slowly lowering himself onto Kuroo’s length.  He had screwed his eyes shut in anticipation but was surprised to find Kuroo slid in with relative ease.  No doubt he felt stretched and full, his chest fit to burst, but there was no pain, and his heart swelled to see Kuroo coming similarly undone beneath him.

“Ngh… Kuro…” He groaned as he buried the last few measures inside him, his body shaking as he took deep, gasping breaths.

Kuroo rubbed slow circles with his thumb on one of Kenma’s thighs, gently resting the cast on the other, his fingertips straining from the plaster for a chance to touch and feel. 

“Hah… Kenma… you okay?”

“I feel so full…” Kenma moaned, giving an experimental rock of his hips.

Kuroo cried out beneath him from the unexpected movement, and his good hand gripped Kenma’s hip.  “Ngh…”

Kenma shifted and gasped as the movement pressed Kuroo’s tip against his prostate.  “Ah!  Ahhnn…”

It was so much, and it was so good… but Kenma didn’t want to go over the edge from just this.  He could feel his orgasm just on the edge of his breath.  So he grasped Kuroo’s sides with both hands and rocked his hips furiously up and down, biting his lip to stifle his cries and wincing as the ridges of Kuroo’s hip bones dug into his thighs.  Kuroo was unraveling beneath him, thrusting his hips upward to match Kenma’s rhythm and pushing his cock deeper and deeper inside.

“K-Kuro… Hah… I’m!”

That was all the warning Kenma could manage before he spilled between them, coating Kuroo’s chest and stomach with his semen.  It was messy and splattered everywhere, but Kenma could scare be bothered by that, not when Kuroo was still thrusting, his grunts and moans now colored with soft whines. 

He came moments later, but it felt like too long to an over-stimulated, hyper-sensitive Kenma.  He pushed his weight down onto Kuroo’s hips to still them, gasping against Kuroo’s neck as he collapsed.  He could see starts behind his eyelids every time he blinked, and his skin was on fire.

“Kuro… Kuro…” he moaned, wanting Kuroo to respond, for his voice to ground him and bring him down from his overwhelming high.

Kuroo could only pant in return, making feeble grunts as he shifted his hips to slowly pull out of Kenma’s heat.  His good arm he wrapped around Kenma’s waist before he peppered kisses all along Kenma’s neck and collar bone, finding his voice at last by the time his lips reached the skin of his shoulder.

“Kenma…”

“I think I love you too…” Kenma whispered in his bliss, clinging tight.  “I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone before, but I think I love you.”

“Even though I’m a dweeb with a broken arm and dumb hair?” Kuroo smirked, but his voice was shaky and unconvincing.

Kenma kissed the corner of Kuroo’s mouth with a smile.  “Shut up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ohh, heaven help them, there was no extinguishing the new flame they had kindled together. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm happy to finally present the fireman!AU commission for for Faiyuuhi!! It was so much fun to write honestly, and a wonderful project to be a part of, I was so excited when she asked me to write for it, and hopefully people will find this as a nice supplement to her beautiful art.
> 
> Probably the biggest challenge I faced writing this was the fact that Kuroo and Kenma are not childhood friends who've known each other forever, so I had to figure out where and how to tweak their usual dynamic and how to approach their dating first, falling in love later. Since with their canon dynamics, they fall in love for forever and then take forever to get to the dating part. 
> 
> Also my first time writing Oikawa and Iwaizumi and Daichi so hopefully I didn't mess them up too badly, but they're also only around for a little while, so if I did, you only have to suffer a little while. It was mostly Oikawa that was my concern.
> 
> To those who haven't seen Faiyuuhi's beautiful fireman AU fanart, you can find them on her [Tumblr](http://faiyuuhi.tumblr.com/tagged/fireman-AU), and check out all of her other wonderful works too! 
> 
> Anyway, I'm open to all constructive criticism~ Whether it's plot failure, characterization, sentence structure, let me have it. 
> 
> ===
> 
> Feel free to chat with me on Twitter or Tumblr about HQ!
> 
>  **Twitter:** @Luna_Dreaming  
>  **Tumblr:** nimbus-cloud


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